YELENA

Tristan's left hand slipped down, resting gently on the curve of my belly. The touch was so tender it made me chuckle softly, but I knew I had to use this moment of softness.

"Tristan," I said, placing my hand over his. "Let her see him. She asked for it. She needs that peace to heal."

The softness vanished instantly. He pulled his hand back, his face hardening into a mask of Alpha authority. "I knew you’d take his side." He looked back at Marie, who was watching us with hollow, ...